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January 3rd, 2012
Monday morning, I went to the neurologist for the first time. I’ve had headaches since seventh grade, by the way. In high school, I had an MRI and they couldn’t find anything wrong with me. “Must be stress” was the diagnosis, and I don’t remember there being any treatment. Certainly nothing that helped. My headaches continued for years, frequent, sometimes debilitating, more often just making everything more difficult but not impossible. Before I had kids, I’d lie on the couch when my head hurt. After I became a mother, I had no choice but to ignore the pain and tend to my little ones. A few years ago, I experienced my first migraine aura. If you’ve never had one and you don’t know what it is, then migraine aura is very scary. You see weird, shimmery things moving across your vision. You think you’re going blind or that you must have a brain tumor. You wonder if you’re dying. But my dad had just been diagnosed with migraines, and he was able to identify the aura. I calmed down and made an appointment with my family doctor.
My doctor said it sounded like migraines, which I wouldn’t have believed, except that I’d had the aura. I thought migraines were always debilitating. I thought if you didn’t have to retreat to a dark room and silence, and if there was no nausea, then it must not be migraine. I started taking rizatriptan, and it worked!
But over the past three months or so, the headaches have been getting more frequent and more severe. I’ve been having nausea along with the pain, and sometimes I get shaky and dizzy, and my speech is slurred. I definitely feel impaired, and I can’t do anything.
After meeting with the neurologist, I’m really excited about my new plan for migraine management. It’s complicated – four new meds – and he said to expect it to take at least five weeks to get it under control. I’m having about five migraine days each week, so I don’t figure I have much to lose. Yay! I’ll keep you updated here. I’m so pleased.
January 2nd, 2012
Hello friends, and happy new year. I’m feeling positive about 2012 and my plans and resolutions. A few days ago I had a 2012 planning day, which involved numerous spreadsheets and lists. (I love organizing in this way!) I’ve planned my resolutions and personal goals, my rotating menu, my weekly schedule, my calendar for the year. I’ve got lists of things to do in certain months. I have a budget for each month. So who knows how long it will all last, but I love having it planned out and starting off on the right foot.
It’s been a lot of years since I made resolutions and really meant or expected to keep them. Not sure what’s different about this year, but I’ve made resolutions – actually, I made them weeks ago.
1. Pay off our credit card by year’s end. I think this is possible if we stick to our budget. It all started with the Chicago trip last summer, which we took with borrowed funds. Not smart, and now it must be remedied before we get in too deep.
2. Finish writing not one book, but two. First, I’ve got the book about Sanctuary Home. Second, I’ve got the book I wrote for NaNoWriMo. I don’t know if it’s reasonable to complete them both by the end of the year, but I plan to attempt. At least if I don’t finish both, I’d like to have one finished and the other with good progress.
3. Read the Bible. The whole thing. This resolution is kind of cliche, but I really want to do it. I’ve probably read each book of the Bible at some point in my life, but I’m interested in reading it all chronologically. I got a chronological Bible for Christmas, and each date has several pages to read, so it’s set up to make it easy to know what to read each day.
4. Lose 15 pounds/exercise/eat healthier. Also cliche, but who cares? I’m gonna do it. No crazy plans here – I just plan to start walking again several times a week and avoid overeating, and I think that will do it. If I eat healthier and exercise, and I don’t lose weight, then so be it. Not a big deal. This is more about health than my figure.
I hope for a normal, peaceful 2012. I don’t want to take any big trips or make any big purchases. I want to stay home, be with friends, be with family. I want to enjoy my days. I want to read and write and relax, to bake bread and drink tea and cookout. I want to raise vegetables and chickens and put my feet up in the evenings. I want my kids to get good grades and my husband to enjoy his job and make progress on the dissertation. I want to celebrate birthdays and holidays in simple and meaningful ways. I realize that I probably have no control over how normal our lives feel in 2012, but I’m determined to keep an attitude of peace throughout.
Happy 2012!
December 19th, 2011
I just haven’t felt much like blogging lately. Things seem bleak. Christmas is only a few days away. My kids are excited, and we’ve got lots of gifts under the tree and plans to be with family and friends soon. I’m looking forward to the school break as much as the kids are, because it means I can sleep late. I feel like I need to spend some extra time in bed, recovering from the world. No snow expected this year, but there’s a driving rain outside and a north wind that makes me want to hibernate.
Last night we lit four Advent candles, and in the middle of the reading, Edward somehow swallowed a penny. This interrupted our Advent devotional as we scrambled to figure out what he needed – emergency room? Turns out he’s fine and the penny will probably not cause any problems, but I still have that feeling of interruption. Not just interruption of my Advent thoughts by that swallowed penny, but an interruption of life and joy. Edward’s friend Liam, who is also six years old, came home from St. Jude’s last week. He’s dying of leukemia. Nothing more they can do. I’m not questioning why, or losing faith, or lashing out. I’m just sad. We’re all sad. Much more bleak than merry. Clinging to Christmas and Easter like never before.
November 30th, 2011
It’s finally over! I have so enjoyed this past month of writing like mad, and am pleased to inform you that I arrived at 51,208 words, and the end of my first draft, yesterday afternoon. Even more exciting, though, is that I like the story. It’s definitely a book you’ll hear more about here as I add to it and edit it over and over. My 2009 NaNoWriMo book was pretty boring when it was all finished, so I didn’t bother doing much editing. I just let it die. But I love this one! It’s more about the characters than the plot – shocking, I know, since I’m such a glutton for the plot-driven. I’ve written to the end of a section, really, but there will need to be more sections in more books. I know what happens later (although I can never really trust characters to follow my instructions!), and I don’t want to not write about it. There is a possibility that I’ll add the next part into the current story, but I’m at a definite stopping point, and would have to do some literary juggling to make that work. But I’m not thinking much about that now.
No, today I am focusing on laundry, and cleaning, and catching up on emails for Sanctuary Home. I may even cook a real supper! And in the coming weeks, I’ll need to focus on sewing, since the stock of pillow covers is completely gone, they have orders waiting to be sent out, and of course I need to pay off a credit card.
I have a lot to do, but I’m feeling quite contented today. It must be the afterglow of writing!
November 25th, 2011
I am thankful for spiritual things, and mysterious things. I am thankful for a God who lets me doubt, who waits for me to come back after I’ve been away, who doesn’t rub it in when I realize I’ve been in the wrong.
I am thankful for the ways that humanity has tried to experience the spiritual, and that God puts up with our small attempts. I am thankful for the stories about saints, the old hymns, the liturgical assemblies. I am thankful for the icons, the statues, the paintings that illuminate spiritual and mysterious things, or at least our best understandings.
I am thankful for the witnesses who tell their stories, for the miraculous, for those found who were lost.
I am thankful that there is so much mystery, so many things I can’t possibly understand. I am thankful that I don’t have to rely on my inadequate intelligence or knowledge in order to take part in the spiritual realm. I am thankful for the unseen, and the rare glimpses of spiritual beauty that make me catch my breath and remember that there is another world alongside our own.
And now, I am thankful for Advent, the waiting and remembering of the birth of Christ, for the nativity scene and the Christmas tree, the season of anticipation that stretches back centuries and affects everything, both past, present, and future.
November 24th, 2011
I am thankful for the relationships. For Ray, who is there for better or worse, the man I trust with bright days and dark days. I’m thankful for his constancy. I am thankful for his respect and love, and for his confidence in me.
I’m thankful for my children. For Virginia, who won’t be a child much longer, and who would argue that she’s well beyond childhood already. I’m thankful for her hugs and her wit, and the way she makes me think about things from a new perspective. I am thankful to have a teenage girl of my own, who will laugh and shop and talk with me in ways only mothers and daughters can.
I’m thankful for Edward, for his imagination and enthusiasm, his wonderful questions and his big blue eyes. I’m thankful for that adorable gap in his teeth where he knocked one out as a toddler, more so because it won’t be there much longer. I’m thankful that he loves track day at school, and that he is reading and spelling well, and that he still likes to sit on my lap and hug me as hard as he can.
I’m thankful for my parents and my sisters and brother, my aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews, because family is family. They never let you forget who you really are, and they never stop loving you. They keep you honest. They remember the same past.
I’m thankful for my friends. My Sunday evening friends are a community of respect and love, of questioning and seeking, and examining. We are a community of those who speak freely to each other about deep things, and accept each others doubts and confessions and complaints.
My Tuesday night friends, the Coffee Ladies, deserve their own category of thankfulness. We are a community of deep love and hearty laughter, of crazy stories and big plans. We are a place where a squeezed hand and a patted back mean support. We are the meaning of loyalty and mutual care.
I am thankful for the greater community that exists through blog comments and facebook posts, emails and texts and direct messages on Twitter. I am thankful for the love I feel from my real friends around the country and around the world, those I no longer live close to because I’ve moved, or they’ve moved, and those with whom communication must be electronic because of the vast distances between us.
It took many years to understand how much I need relationships and community, and I’m thankful now to see that truth so I can better appreciate others.
November 23rd, 2011
I am thankful for the small things, those commonplace and practical, the little luxuries. Every morning I delight over an assortment of delicious teas and good coffees, and every evening I have my choice of good wines. Not expensive wines, but good and simple drinks in good and simple glasses, and I’m thankful for the comfort that comes from good beverages of all sorts. I am thankful for having a lot of counter space in my kitchen, and my dishwasher and garbage disposal. I am thankful for my thermostat, for having my own bathroom (with Ray), and for my front porch. On school mornings, whether it’s too hot or too cold or too rainy (rare, but not unheard of), I am thankful that my car is in the garage and I can avoid the elements, and even wear my houseshoes when I drop off the kids.
I am thankful for the feel of walking into a bookstore and seeing all of the possibilities before me. But I am also thankful that I can buy a book electronically and be reading it in an instant, all without leaving my bed. I am thankful for the smallness of my town, the quaint places, the accents I hear and the conventions I am comfortable with.
I am thankful for the big sky, the cacti, the wildflowers in spring and pecans in fall. I am thankful for the cattle and the giant sprinklers and the cotton fields to the west, and all the natural things that define my home. And for the things that define my home on a smaller scale these days: Legos under the couch, dog toys spread around, markers and scout uniforms, needles and thread and the mending pile, the bicycle on the porch, shoes I can share with my daughter. And the electronics that are so ingrained, the laptops and iPhones and iPods, the Kindles and video game consoles, headphones and chargers.
I am thankful for countless small things, commonplace and practical, because they define this moment and place in time.
November 21st, 2011
I need to back up. A couple of weeks ago, I reviewed Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James, the first erotica book I’d ever read. My conclusion was that sexual tension in a book is better than an actual sex scene (or dozens of sex scenes). I was annoyed with James for the ending, which was completely without closure, and I resolved not to buy the sequel, Fifty Shades Darker. But then. A couple of days after I washed my hands of the story, the characters kept popping into my head. And while I KNEW exactly where the sequel would go – it’s not a new plot, people – I wanted to see the characters get back together and work out their differences. And I changed my opinions a bit.
First of all, I’ve always heard that erotica, or even simple romance novels, are like porn for women, and I tend to agree based on the romances I’ve read. I figured erotica was the same thing, but more graphic. Now I’m not sure. The Fifty Shades books don’t fit into the category I thought was erotica, but they’re better than the average romance, and definitely more graphic. But I didn’t think they were tacky. I’m still planning to stick to writing fiction with no graphic sex scenes, but I have a new respect for this particular author.
I can only conclude that E.L. James is extremely talented. She has taken a well-worn plot and made it fabulous. This is a big deal – it’s a well-worn plot because people like to read this basic story again and again, so anyone who attempts it has to do a stellar job to succeed. The sex scenes – yes, graphic – were more about the characters than the sex, believe it or not. No annoying cliches, throbbing loins, or heaving bosoms. Seriously good writing. I think doing a great job with a romance/erotica book, when you think about it, is a difficult task. There is a third book, too, not published yet, and I will be purchasing it when it comes out.
November 16th, 2011
I know it’s been said here before, but I am so deeply thankful for friendships. Never in my life have I had such deep, rich relationships with a group of ladies. Not just ladies my age: those Coffee Night friends include my daughter, who is a teen, college girls and girls in their 20s, myself and other 30-somethings, and dear friends in their 40s and 50s as well. And we all love each other. As Jana recently pointed out, we’ve been together for so long now that we’re going through significant life events together.
We’ve had ladies move away (Katie, Abi, Amber – you are still missed!), move back, get married, change jobs, graduate college. Early next year, we’ll have a Coffee Night baby when Laura’s little girl is born. And last week, we had the passing of Kathy’s father, who we felt like we knew, through her. Didn’t we hear all about him from Kathy? Didn’t we all love the fact that he was dating, and then engaged, despite being in his 80s? Didn’t we all cry with her when we heard about the cancer?
When I have tragedy in my life, I want my coffee ladies there to hold my hands. On Monday, three of us spent about seven hours in a car while going to and from Kathy’s dad’s funeral. We went because we love Kathy. (Had the funeral been on a weekend, many more of us from Coffee Night could have attended – we ALL love Kathy.)
While driving, I kept thinking how amazing it is to have friends that I care about so much, and who care about me. And of course, we laughed and laughed during the course of our travel.
I’m not really going anywhere with this, except examining my own thankfulness. This year it will not be difficult at all to find things I’m grateful for on Thanksgiving Day. They may not be unique blessings, but they are still profound and beautiful.
November 14th, 2011
I read a disturbing book this week: Dismembered, by Susan Mustafa. My interest in true crime finally got the better of me, and I found a book that was too far over the line for me to enjoy it. Dismembered is about a serial killer in Baton Rouge, Sean Gillis. So yes, there are actually stories that are too gruesome, too horrific, altogether too much for me, something I was not aware of until now. I normally enjoy the learning aspect of true crime books, because it’s a peek into the mind of a human who is so different from me that I can’t possibly understand them. But I still want to know: what led them to commit the crime, nature vs. nurture, why they snapped, what the repercussions were for everyone involved, and how the case went through the justice system. But this book was too much. Or rather, this criminal had something so deeply wrong with him that he didn’t seem human at all. There was no empathy for him. No profound revelations. Just barbaric, gruesome, inhuman crimes.
On a literary note, I didn’t like the way Mustafa wrote the book, not compared with other crime writers. It wasn’t completely chronological, and she included a lot of excess information that didn’t add to the story.
Unrelated: my Kindle is dead. I dropped it from waist high on a hard floor, although it was in a case. Now, do I want another Kindle, or a Kindle Fire for Christmas? Between now and then, I’ll have to reacquaint myself with books made of paper. Imagine!
Related to last week’s book review of Fifty Shades of Grey, by E.L. James: She did sell out and ended her book with a non-ending, I believe in order to sell the sequel. Well, E.L. James, I take pity on you. I refused to buy the sequel on principle, but I think you’ve suffered enough. That, and I really want to know what happens next. Buying the sequel.
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